


Meet in the Middle

by RiotFalling, WhiteIronWolf (adoctoraday)



Series: Bound To You [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, BDSM-verse, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Dom!Bucky Barnes, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Sub!Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, canon adjacent, car talk, maybe they’ll even get one, mentions of child abuse, post-AoU, self-worth issues for everybody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/WhiteIronWolf
Summary: Bucky and Tony still have a lot to work out between them, starting with whether they can even hold a conversation in person without one or both of them having a panic attack. Once they're past all the awkwardness they find that they have more in common than either of them knew, including how badly they both need this to work out.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Bound To You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806055
Comments: 145
Kudos: 587





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Пойдём навстречу](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29529897) by [Sidemaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidemaze/pseuds/Sidemaze)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter written by WhiteIronWolf
> 
> [You can find me @TheRollingStonys on tumblr! Just ask for Mod Stella!](https://therollingstonys.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

IronMan  
  
If you still want to give it a try. I’m all yours  
I’d really like that. I’m happy to hear from you, I wasn’t sure you’d ever want to see or speak to me again, let alone agree to try this. Do you want to try meeting again, and we can talk about it in person?  
Let me guess, you’re not a fan of texting?   
Kids today and their damn phones, am I right?  
You’re a real firecracker, you know that? 😆  
Loud, obnoxious and flashy? That’s me!   
Awe inspiring, marvelous, stunning. THAT’S you.  
Wow... that’s... quite possibly the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me before   
Uh, yeah, let’s meet up and talk some more about this in person   
212-473-0001   
Is that your personal number? I’m honored  
You should be, definitely   
Shit... I have to run to a meeting, ttyl?   
Definitely! Have a good day Tony  


* * *

Bucky’s been smiling for days now and the guys at the shop won’t fucking _shut up_ about it, but he can’t really control it, it just keeps creeping back onto his face.

He’s had a few nightmares, and after he’d left Tony that night and really processed things the next morning he’d had a flashback that had left him vomiting and shaking, recalling the way it had felt to crush Maria Stark’s throat beneath his fingers.

He doesn’t remember everyone that he’s killed, some are more like vague cottony dreams, faces obscured from his own grasping mind.

They say time heals all wounds, but Bucky very fucking respectfully disagrees. His body and mind are littered with scars—some he remembers getting and others remain a mystery.

Sam tells him that with time he might remember more, but a very large part of Bucky isn’t sure he _wants_ to. He isn’t sure he wants to be haunted by the ghosts of his past anymore than he already is.

It’s hard enough having Steve look at him with hope in his eyes, like he thinks if he just _wants it_ badly enough that Bucky will be the man he used to be, that he’ll call Steve a punk and they’ll go dancing like they used to.

But that’s not _him_ anymore.

Hell, most days he’s not sure who he is at all.

He’s James Barnes and _Bucky_ and Sergeant Barnes of the 107th and the Winter Soldier and no one at all, just a nameless faceless man in the crowd.

But now, now he might be Tony Stark’s dom and something has lodged in his chest, warm and glowing and he vaguely recognizes it as happiness.

It’s been a long time since he’s had reason to be happy, to smile, and he finds himself clinging to it with both hands, unwilling to let it go now that he’s found it.

Every text he and Tony exchange through the week leading up to their meeting makes him smile, laugh and thrill with excitement, that warm glowing feeling in his chest flickering like an ember given oxygen.

His day off has been shot to hell by their new mechanic Kurt calling out sick, forcing Bucky to cover his shift so the shop doesn’t get set back by being short handed.

He’s supposed to be meeting Tony at 6, but as the day progresses he grows more and more worried that he’s going to be late. When 5:15 finally rolls around he clocks out, rushes through a hasty scrub down in the break room bathroom sink, and then pulls on a clean outfit, tucking the shirt under his arm so he doesn't sweat right through it on his walk over to the hotel.

A quick spray of some mid price cologne will hopefully cover up any lingering sweat or grease smell, and then he’s walking as fast as he can through the crowded rush hour sidewalks, gritting his teeth against the urge to scream. It's June in New York, so it's peak tourist season and the streets are crowded and filled with loud voices; the sound and the humid heat is oppressive, wearing him down on top of the anxiety he already feels. 

By the time he reaches the hotel they’d agreed to meet at for a neutral location, it’s 5:45 and he’s got a thick sheen of sweat on his skin and irritation has made him tense. He stops at the front desk and grabs the keycard and then diverts to the restroom to wash his face off and take a few deep breaths.

He studies himself in the mirror, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes, the hair that’s too long and looks a little greasy from work and the beard that he just keeps letting grow because it’s as good a disguise as any.

Not that many people _know_ who he is, but he can still feel the itch between his shoulders most days that tells him someone is watching him. He’s not convinced Hydra is gone, despite Steve’s assurance that they had wiped it out after Ultron.

Cut one head off and two more take its place.

Hydra has always been good at lurking in the shadows, manipulating the world on puppet strings that no one sees till it’s too late.

There’s a cracking sound and he looks down in surprise to find he’s half broken the sink. Glancing around quickly, he’s relieved to find he’s alone in the communal bathroom—the last thing he needs is someone looking too closely and realizing that he’s _different._

Different is dangerous.

Different gets you _dead_.

He doesn’t want to be _different_ , he just wants to fade into obscurity and live his fucking life in _peace_. Christ, he doesn’t even know what that would _look_ like.

Part of that possibility for peace is waiting for him, twelve floors up.

Taking a deep breath, he shoves his hair back and wipes his hands off on his jeans nervously, hurrying to the elevator and stepping inside behind a family with two little kids. He smothers a laugh when they immediately press all the buttons and they’re forced to stop on each floor.

The mom looks ready to cry and the dad looks like he needs a drink, the kids chattering a mile a minute about all the cool things they’re gonna see tomorrow.

“You should uh, check out Romanos in Brooklyn,” he murmurs, working up a nervous smile when the parents look at him in surprise. “Family place, great Italian. Been around since the 30’s.”

The mom nods and the dad smiles gratefully at him while the kids debate whether pizza or calzones are better (pizza, obviously) and he offers them a small wave as he steps off the elevator and onto the 12th floor.

See, he can be a normal human.

Sometimes.

He stands and stares at the number on the door for a long time, nervous as hell and so full of hope he’s sick to his stomach with it. It’s been _so_ long since he’s done something like this that it scares the life out of him—the responsibility that comes with a sub’s submission and the trust inherent in the act has always awed him.

He can tell Tony maybe hasn’t had the best experiences, and it makes him worry that he’s going to fuck it up and wind up hurting the man—especially after he’d robbed the man of his parents, he’s already got a huge debt of pain to try and make up for.

Swallowing down his nerves, he knocks and then uses the keycard, the smell of the hotel room and over washed cotton sheets filling his nose. The door clicks shut behind him and he steps forward cautiously, coming to a halt when Tony steps around the corner and stares at him, wide eyed, surprise and nervousness clearly writ upon his face.

“Centennial man? Really? Isn’t that a _little_ on the nose?”

Bucky pauses for just a second, then huffs out a soft laugh, “Your username is _IronMan_!” he rebuts, that warm little ball of sunshine in his chest glowing a little harder when Tony grins at him.

Tony’s clearly trying not to laugh as he murmurs, “I _am_ Iron Man” and they stare at each other for a moment before laughing, and just like that, the ice is cracked between them.

Bucky looks around with an assessing eye and nods, “Nice place,” he says lightly. It’s certainly nicer than his apartment, and nicer than anyplace he’s stayed in—other than Sam’s place. That had been beautiful and serene and had made Bucky wish for his own place outside the city to relax in and finally escape the rush and grind of the world.

Tony nods, “It’ll do,” he says, and Bucky’s reminded that this is a man with literal _billions_ of dollars to his name—a $500 a night hotel room is pocket change to Tony.

The idea of that much money is just so _foreign_ to Bucky he has a hard time conceptualizing what it would look like. Probably like that cartoon duck with a swimming pool full of money, he thinks, biting back a snort of amusement.

They stand there awkwardly till Bucky gestures at the small lounge, “Why don't we sit and relax?” he suggests, trying to smile encouragingly when Tony looks nervous.

Bucky moves to sit in the armchair near the fireplace, instinctively putting the wall at his back so the door is easily accessible. It’s the best vantage point in the room, but it still makes his skin twitchy time have a window just out of his sight line.

He shifts the chair three inches to the left until one corner of it is against the fireplace and the window is more clearly visible. Twitching the curtains shut, he nods and then turns back to find Tony watching him with something like amused interest in his eyes.

“I can’t take things from people I don’t know,” Tony says, apropos of nothing. “Howard handed me a pair of hot welding tongs without warning me and I got second degree burns.” He shrugs and smiles weakly at Bucky, “I get it. We’ve all got things that are ingrained.”

Bucky nods and smiles weakly, grateful for the understanding.

Tony sits on the loveseat and crosses an ankle over his knee, the fabric of his worn jeans pulling tight on strong thighs, the tears in the fabric offering him tantalizing glimpses of skin. Swallowing hard, he averts his gaze for a moment before looking back up through the strands of hair that have fallen into his face to find Tony studying him intently.

“So what do you do?” Tony asks suddenly, looking away, fingers dancing over the fabric of his jeans, flicking away non existent lint.

He’s just as nervous as Bucky is, _thank god._

“I work at a family owned garage in Brooklyn,” he explains, lips twitching in amusement when he sees the way Tony’s fingers twitch and his gaze flicks back at this new information. “Sorry if I kinda brought the shop with me.”

“I think you are greatly underestimating the amount of time _I_ spend covered in grease, you’re fine,” Tony says with a soft laugh, and then motions for Bucky to continue.

“I mostly work on the higher end cars that folks bring us, but I know my way around the beaters and junkers too.”

He studies Tony and then leans back in his chair and widens his legs, demonstrating his ease and comfort with the situation—even if he’s still a little nervous. Decades in the hands of Hydra had made him not just an assassin, but a liar and a spy too.

He knows how to manipulate a target—and abruptly cuts off _that_ thought because Tony is absolutely _not_ a target.

“I learned how to put an engine together when I was four,” Tony says, and when Bucky looks up he’s got a wobbly little smile on his face, the effort he’s putting in to keep the conversation alive clear as day.

“Yea?” Bucky asks, voice hoarse for a moment from emotion. He smiles, shaky, but warm, and breathes a little easier when Tony’s shoulders drop a touch from where they’d been up around his ears. Tony nods and Bucky smiles a little warmer, “What kind, you remember?”

Tony ponders it for a moment, brow furrowed and bottom lip caught between his teeth and Bucky’s suddenly hit with the realization that this man is _deeply_ attractive. The sharp curve of his cheekbones is second only to that of his jaw and then Bucky’s staring at the lines of his throat and wondering what the skin tastes like just below his jaw when Tony says his name and it has that quality that tells him it’s not the first time it’s been said.

He blinks away his distraction and smiles tiredly at Tony, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get distracted, it was a long day at work. I promise, you have my attention now.”

Tony stares at him for a moment like he’s not sure he believes him and then nods slowly, “Right, well, that’s ok, I was, um, just saying that it was a uh, Jeep engine, one of my fath— _Howard’s_ old vehicles from the war. He got angry with me for taking it apart and, well, didn’t react well.”

Bucky notes the abrupt change from the use of the word _father_ into the man’s proper name and then the phrase _didn’t react well_ and how it’s paired with something that, in someone less in control, would be called a flinch.

But Tony doesn’t flinch, he just smiles wider, fake and unsettling and laughs, shrugging. “I should have known better than to touch something so valuable,” he says simply, as if a father beating his son for taking apart an engine at 4 is a _reasonable_ reaction.

“He always did seem like a prick,” Bucky retorts, taking Tony by surprise, if the wide eyes and parted lips are any indication. When Tony continues to stare, Bucky smirks, “He thought the sun shone outta Stevie’s ass and wouldn’t say no to him about damn near anything. And you _know_ Stevie, you give him an inch he takes a damn continent.”

At this, Tony laughs, abrupt and gleeful, and Bucky’s treated to the sight of the fine lines around his eyes deepening, of the way his throat works as he laughs and how goddamn beautiful he is like this—happy.

Bucky _loves_ it.

In that moment he resolves to make Tony laugh and smile as much as he can in whatever time they have together.

“God I’d love to see you tell that to Steve to his face,” Tony says with a wistful smile.

Bucky snorts, “What do you think I did that whole year we were together before I fell off that train? Every chance I got I reminded him he was a dumb little shit who flew in fists first without thinking, and how he couldn’t push people around just cuz he thought he was right.”

Bucky laughs and shoves his hair back off his brow, “Didn’t like it that much, I have to say.”

Tony grins and ducks his chin, shaking his head, “Yea, no, he really doesn’t,” he agrees.

They fall into a comfortable silence that’s just shy of becoming awkward again when Bucky’s stomach rumbles loudly, announcing the fact he hadn’t gotten to eat since...last night? He’s not really sure, honestly.

“You want room service? We should get you something,” Tony murmurs, already rising to his feet.

“Hey, it’s fine, I can wait till I go home,” Bucky murmurs, but Tony’s shoving a menu into his hands and Bucky’s stomach is growling louder, so why not?

He ends up ordering four bacon cheeseburgers with a side of fries, and two milkshakes, one chocolate peanut butter and the other a salted caramel coffee.

They chat a little more about cars and mechanics and what types of vehicles they’ve worked on, and then the food is there and Bucky’s eagerly tearing into his first burger when he notices Tony eyeing one as well.

Smirking, he takes another bite and nudges the foil wrapped burger across the table to Tony, the coffee milkshake next, and nods. “Eat up, I ordered too much.”

Tony studies him suspiciously, like he thinks it’s a trap, and Bucky just eats more, humming happily at the taste of fresh tomato and bacon.

_God_ the food is good in the future.

Tony hesitantly reaches for the burger, fingers moving delicately as he unwraps it and studies it before lifting it taking a bite. When he groans Bucky takes it as a success and grins, “‘s good right?”

Tony nods and Bucky leans back in the chair, chewing thoughtfully as he watches Tony and sips on his milkshake. There’s a not so small part of him that’s proud because he got _his_ sub to eat—it’s dumb and dominant and he swallows the urge to tell Tony he’s done good just for eating.

They certainly aren’t _there_ yet.

Maybe someday soon though.

He’s always liked taking care of his subs, and his friends and family. He’s a caretaker, through and through.

Red hair flashes in his memories, a tiny ballerina making the Asset smile, the best of his students, his only friend.

He’d taken care of her too, best he could anyway, in a place like _that._

“I actually just got my hands on a ‘36 Jaguar SS I. The paint job is kind of a mess, but the engine is in surprisingly good shape all things considered.”

Bucky looks up, snapped out of his daze and smiles at Tony, “That sounds awesome,” he murmurs, “you have any pictures of it?”

Tony shakes his head, “Not with me, the paint is seriously a _mess,_ and I’m not going to shame it by photographing it in that condition. You could come check it out sometime though, if you want,” he murmurs before pausing in apparent shock at his own words. He stutters for a few moments and then shoves a burger into his mouth, cheeks pink and eyes downcast.

Bucky can’t stop grinning because goddamn this man is _adorable._ It’s truly not fair for a man to be this handsome and smart and sweet and still somehow think so little of himself.

He makes a resolution then and there that no matter how short or long a time they have together, he’s going to pamper and please and _treasure_ the fuck out of this man.

“Alright, but what’s the _weirdest_ thing you’ve seen wrong with a car at your job?” Tony asks a moment later, the attempt at changing the subject painfully obvious.

Bucky smirks, but doesn’t tease Tony about it, just launches into a story of how he’d seen a vintage Camaro brought in by a scared teenager who had taken it for a joyride while his parents were out of town and then driven it into a cow pond upstate.

“Tony, I’m not kidding you, there was cow shit _inside_ the gas tank!”

He grins as Tony laughs wildly, eyes screwed shut in delight, a cute little snort emerging that sends them both into peals of laughter till Bucky’s sides hurt and it feels hard to breathe.

They settle slowly, exchanging soft grins as they finish off the fries and milkshakes. He grins when Tony dips his fry into Bucky’s milkshake and doesn’t say anything at all, just enjoys the blush that’s still pink and warm on Tony’s cheeks.

Bucky considers the last burger and decides against it—he’s pleasantly full and can always get more to eat later if he’s hungry again. He doesn’t want it to go to waste though, so he offers it silently to Tony who considers it for a second before shaking his head.

He’ll take it with him and give it to Hank, the homeless man who lives in the alley by Bucky’s apartment.

“Are... are you going to tell Steve about this?”

Bucky looks up, confused. “About what?” he asks, brow furrowing.

Tony waves a hand between them, “About _this,_ about how we met, about…” he trails off, swallowing hard and Bucky suddenly gets it.

“Tony, I’m not going to tell _anyone_ anything you don’t want me to.” Tony doesn’t look convinced _at all_ , and it occurs to Bucky that maybe this is about more than just the obvious tension between Tony and Steve. “Do- Does anyone know? That you’re a sub, I mean?”

Tony hunches down on himself a little harder, jaw clenching and unclenching before he finally snorts and says _“God no,_ why _would_ I tell anyone that. Bad enough I turned out to be a sub, but I’m not even a particularly _good_ one.”

Bucky feels like his heart is breaking at the bitter and self recriminating way that Tony talks about himself and the fact that he’s a sub. He’d known some men like that back in the day, filled to the brim with self loathing over something they couldn’t control.

They’d been called fairies and faggots and been beaten if it was found out, and the ones who fought back and tried to demand respect weren’t around for long.

Clearing his throat, Bucky tilts his chin to try and catch Tony’s eye, but the other man is steadfast in his refusal to meet his gaze. Sighing softly, Bucky shakes his head, “Darlin, I’m sorry that you feel that way about being a sub, and I’m sorry that someone made you feel like you weren’t worthy of respect like any other human being because of it, but you gotta know, you being a sub means about the same to me as you having brown eyes.”

Tony’s gaze flickers up to his, confused and wary.

“It’s just a part of you Tony, it’s not _all_ that you are. You’re a genius and a hero and a mechanic and you got that cute snort when you laugh too hard, but none of it defines you, it’s just,” he huffs and then finds the words he wants, “it’s like ingredients in a soup. If any of them were gone or different, you wouldn’t be _you_ anymore. And I like you the way you are.”

Tony stares at him for a long time, jaw working, curiosity and maybe something like hope in his eyes. They’re big and bright and Bucky suspects he’s trying not to cry so he smiles gently and taps his fingers on the table, “I’ll never tell anyone about this without your permission Tony. Now, or in the future, what we do together is just between us. Your privacy is something I respect, and I’m not gonna breach it for anyone.”

Tony sniffles faintly and nods, looking away as he wipes at his eyes surreptitiously, and Bucky carefully averts his gaze, giving the man privacy and time to collect himself.

He picks up the trash from their meal and crumples it all into a ball before tossing it into the trash can across the room, partially hidden by the desk and grins when Tony gives him a look of amused disbelief.

“You wanna do experiments to see what all I can do, don’t you?” he teases, laughing when Tony looks abashed and blushes once more. “Ask nicely and maybe I’ll let you,” he murmurs playfully, winking when Tony looks at him, just to see that blush grow.

Tony fidgets in his seat and Bucky takes pity, leaning back in his as he studies the man and smiles faintly. “Well, should we discuss what our first scene will be like?” he suggests, “if you’re still interested in going through with this with me.”

Tony nods, though it’s still hesitant, so Bucky gives it a moment and waits till Tony looks up at him to say, “We don’t have to do this, you know. No harm, no foul, if you want out, I’m good with that,” he says, even as his instincts scream not to let a sub go when he’s so close to getting what his body needs.

Still, he’s never going to _force_ someone to be with him that doesn’t want to be there. Been there, been forced to do that, never doing it again.

Tony shakes his head slowly, biting at his lip as he looks up at Bucky through sinfully long lashes, “No, it’s good, I’m- I want this,” he says, sounding less enthusiastic than Bucky would like, but, hey, he can work with that. It’s a starting point at least. 

Nodding, he drums his fingers on the table and listens to the servos whine as the arm recalibrates. “Okay, well then, I think us meeting in the hotel for now is the most neutral location, are you okay with that?”

Tony nods and something occurs to Bucky, “Your profile said you’re only in this for one time, is that true?” he asks curiously.

“It’s fine if it is, I just want to be sure so we can plan a scene that meets your needs if it’s just one time. If you’d like this to be more than once, then I have a few ideas in mind; I just gotta know which way to go with my planning,” he says, a short laugh accompanying the words, doing its job to tease out a faint smile from Tony.

“I uh, initially it was only one time that I wanted,” Tony says softly, gaze lowered, “but- I think I need more. It’s been, hah, it’s been _awhile_ and I’ve sorta, well, gone into dom withdrawal.”

Tony winces and looks away, like he’s trying to avoid Bucky’s judgement.

A wry smile creeps onto his lips and he snorts, drawing Tony’s gaze back. “Sounds like we’re in the same boat then,” he murmurs, nodding when comprehension dawns on Tony’s face. “It’s been decades since I domed anyone,” he admits, “for awhile there after DC I just assumed it was gone, that I was neutral now, but,” he laughs bitterly, shaking his head, “insomnia, irritability, anxiety and mood swings are kinda hard to tell apart from the PTSD, so I didn’t really realize I was in sub withdrawal till about a week and a half ago.”

“Yep, that sounds like the same shitty boat alright,” Tony murmurs thoughtfully, studying Bucky intently, eyes cautious and hopeful, maybe. Bucky nods and Tony inhales deeply before nodding and working up a weak smile, “Okay then, keep it casual and as often as we need till we’re both feeling better?”

Bucky bites his tongue because by now he’s self aware enough to know he _likes_ Tony, but if the things Tony’s let slip are any indicator, he’s _very_ unlikely to be open to anything more than just a casual connection that lasts only as long as it needs to.

So he nods and smiles softly, “Sounds good to me,” he agrees. Tony looks mollified, shifting into his seat with a slow nod, adjusting to the idea, Bucky can tell.

“I believe you said you had _plans_ , so... What did you have in mind?” Tony asks softly, gaze flickering between his hands and Bucky’s face.

Bucky shifts, opening up his stance a little more, smiling warmly when Tony meets his gaze. “I was thinking I’d bring some rope and tie you up a little, whether it’s over your clothes or with you as undressed as you feel comfortable with, I’d like to have you kneeling by my knees while I’m sitting. I’d like to feed you by hand and play with your hair a little if that’s something you’re comfortable with. Just let us get used to each other a bit.”

At this, Tony looks completely puzzled, brow furrowed and mouth parted slightly like he’s at a loss for words.

“You...don’t want to fuck me?”

Bucky’s not sure if Tony sounds more confused or disappointed, and he smothers most of the smile that tries to creep out and shakes his head, “Not at first. We’re just getting to know each other and I don’t think it’s appropriate yet.”

“But...how are you going to get off?”

Bucky lifts a brow, because _wow_ he’d really like to know who exactly fucked up Tony’s understanding of dominance and submission.

“I _don’t_ plan on getting off,” he explains carefully, “that’s not the point here. Dominance and submission is, at its core, a power exchange. You submit to me and allow me to do what I want with you, with the understanding that it’s _also_ what _you_ want,” he says.

“What,” Tony says flatly, and Bucky is starting to get angry now, at whoever it was that abused this man and so sickly skewed his perspective on what dominance and submission is.

“It’s not always about fucking or coming. It’s about trust and taking care of each other,” he says gently, watching the play of emotions over Tony’s face with curiosity. He’s clearly confused and in disbelief and once more Bucky would like to know who hurt him.

Just you know, for research purposes.

Tony swallows hard and nods slowly, “I- well I’ve definitely never done that before,” he admits weakly, “But I- I’d like to do the scene like you described. That sounds... good.”

Bucky smiles widely, “That’s great Tony, I’m happy to hear you’re okay with that. Is there anything you’d like to add or subtract from the scene?”

Tony hums and bites his lip, fingers lifting to tap against his chest where Bucky assumes the reactor is, his gaze distant as he thinks. Bucky stays silent, letting him think, smiling warmly when his gaze refocuses on Bucky.

“I’m ok with the rope, as long as it’s not too tight against my chest,” he murmurs warily, eyeing Bucky like he thinks he might get scolded.

Bucky nods encouragingly, “Of course, we’ll test it as we go and if it’s not right we’ll adjust it.”

Tony stares at him for a minute and then nods, “Right, okay...um, I’m ok with being undressed, down to my boxers maybe?” he suggests warily.

“That’s what I had thought too,” Bucky agrees, “but again, if at the time you’re not comfortable with that, I want you to tell me so you’re happy and feeling good about what we’re doing.”

Tony nods slowly, “Sure, yea, okay,” he murmurs, still sounding unsure. “I uh, I’ve never had someone hand feed me, so... I guess that’s ok? It sounds interesting,” he says, smiling awkwardly.

Bucky smiles and nods, “It’s nice, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I- so, what are you going to do while I eat and just...sit there I guess?” Tony asks curiously, sounding like he doesn’t think it could possibly be something Bucky actually wants.

“I’m gonna play with your hair and talk sweet to you so I can see that pretty blush on your cheeks and see if it goes any further,” he answers honestly, a little playfully, grinning when Tony blushes and looks away.

“Um yea, okay,” Tony murmurs, glancing up at him through long dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips.

“Yea?” Bucky replies, smiling happily, “good!” He glances at his phone and then back to Tony, “So, do you wanna meet here again? Say, Friday evening?” he suggests.

Tony picks up his phone for the first time since Bucky got here and scrolls through it for a minute, frowning at the screen before nodding, “Yea that works for me. Seven ok?” he suggests, glancing up to Bucky.

Bucky nods and Tony taps at the screen for another minute before setting it aside and smiling awkwardly, “So I guess that’s it?” he asks weakly.

“Unless you wanna sit here and discuss which engine is better between a Ferrari and a Lamborghini, then yea, I’d say we’re done for now,” he says teasingly, grinning when Tony laughs, feeling victorious.

He’s quickly finding himself loving making Tony smile and laugh.

“We’d be here all night!” Tony exclaims with a grin, “Maybe we can save that heated debate for another time.”

Bucky nods and grins, realizing suddenly how they’re both leaning across the small table towards each other, smiling and staring into each other’s eyes. Clearing his throat, he nods and pushes back from the table, smiling as Tony rises with him.

“I’ll just, walk you out I guess,” Tony murmurs, looking uncertain and hopeful.

They walk to the door and Bucky pauses, hovering between just going, and asking for something he’s wanted since they first met in Tony’s office. He half turns and smiles nervously at Tony, “Would it be too weird to ask for a hug?” he asks with a faint laugh.

Tony’s brows rise and he looks surprised, but to Bucky’s delight, nods and steps forward. Bucky’s arms open instinctively, and then slide around Tony’s back, one hand moving up to cup the back of Tony’s neck while the other presses against the small of his back oh so gently.

Tony stiffens for just a moment, and then he’s melting into Bucky, arms winding tightly around Bucky’s waist, holding on like he thinks if Bucky lets go he’ll collapse.

Bucky can’t help the way he breathes in Tony—his nose is in Tony’s hair and the rich scent of whatever products he uses fills his nose. It’s warm and delicious and Bucky can’t help but hold him a little tighter, inhaling deeply.

Tony makes a soft sound and nuzzles his face into Bucky’s broad chest, body limp and heavy in Bucky’s arms.

God, what he’d give to stay like this forever.

Eventually though he pulls away and smiles down at Tony, fingers brushing the blush on his cheeks faintly before dropping away. “I’ll see you soon,” he promises, “if you want to change anything between now and then about the scene, just text me and let me know.”

Tony nods, his hands lingering on Bucky’s sides, eyes a little glazed over, and Bucky’s tempted to kiss him, which is how he knows it’s time to _go._ “See ya,” he murmurs before opening the door and walking away down the hall, the sound of the door shutting coming only when he steps into the elevator.

He can’t stop smiling all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter written by RiotFalling
> 
> [You can find me @riotwritesthings on Tumblr!](https://riotwritesthings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

Once again, Tony shows up to the hotel a couple hours early.

He wasn’t actually getting anything done anyways, just bouncing anxiously from one thing to another in the lab so quickly that even DUM-E had started making concerned whirring noises at him.

At least the drive to the hotel offers him a _bit_ of a distraction, even if it’s over too soon.

He checks in, leaves an extra key card at the front desk, and tries to fight down his paranoia. He booked the room under a fake name, and no one gives him a second look as he heads for the elevator.

It’s probably because he’s dressed down in jeans and an old band shirt; no one ever expects Tony Stark in casual clothes.

And he _knows_ this hotel is discreet, it goes along with the exorbitant price considering it’s not exactly the nicest hotel in the city. Which really says more about the other hotels in New York City than it does about this one, but that’s not the point. The point is; Tony has no reason to be paranoid.

He still is though, no matter how many times he reminds himself that even if someone _does_ recognize him, the odds are basically zero that they’d guess the truth, much less believe it. That Tony Stark is here to meet a man that just might be his new dom and who, oh right, was also the one who murdered his parents, however unwillingly.

Tony can barely believe it himself, and he’s _living it._

He can’t even decide which part is more unbelievable, that he’s finally going through with finding a new dom _at all,_ or that it’s _Bucky Barnes._ He may have let go of his anger a while ago, after some heavy drinking and a _lot_ of ranting to Pepper and Rhodey, but it’s still.... weird.

It’s just weird.

And there’s still at least a 20% chance that this is all some sort of elaborate trap.

He kind of regrets showing up so early once he’s actually in the room though, because there’s no distractions here. Just a standard, boring hotel room, nothing to focus on but the pit of nerves in his stomach that’s growing bigger with every passing second.

He needs to do this, he knows he does. If anything his headaches have just been getting worse, and it’s hard to tell if the anxiety and insomnia are actually from dom withdrawal anymore, or from the fact that he’s been getting more nervous about this with every passing day.

Tony paces circles around the hotel room, from the small lounge area to the tiny desk by the window to the king sized bed, he rearranges all the tiny toiletries bottles and kind of wishes he hadn’t showered before leaving his penthouse, just so he’d have something to do to pass the time. Now all he has to do is worry.

He’s booked the room for the whole weekend, because it may have been a while, but he remembers how this goes. More than likely he’s going to end up bruised and sore and hating himself when this is over, and he knows he’s going to be glad to have a day or two before he has to leave the room.

Sure, Bucky has seemed nothing but kind and considerate in the text conversations they’ve had, and the last time they met, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time Tony has seen someone completely change once that dom switch gets flicked.

Hell, he and Ty had been _friends._ And sure, Ty was always a bit of a dick, but it was nothing compared to the way he’d acted once he was Tony’s dom.

Once he realized what a _terrible_ sub Tony is.

It’s only a matter of time before Bucky figures it out too. Supposedly he’s a pretty clever guy, so Tony can’t imagine it’ll take long. And at least then Tony will know what he’s really in for.

Apparently he gets so caught up in his pacing and worrying that he loses track of time, because when there’s a gentle knock at the door he nearly trips over his own feet. Tony whips his head towards the clock on the nightstand and yep, look at that, it’s six o’clock.

Before he can move to answer the knock, or maybe throw himself out the window, he hasn’t decided yet, he hears the door open.

No running away now.

Tony steps into view of the tiny front hallway, hoping it doesn’t show that he’s so nervous he’s nearly sick to his stomach, and there’s Bucky, hovering just inside the doorway. Tony can’t tell if it makes him feel better or worse that Bucky looks a little nervous, too.

Before he can stop himself or think of literally _anything else_ to say in greeting, Tony finds himself blurting out “Centennial man? Really? Isn’t that a little on the nose?”

Bucky looks thrown for a split second, and then he’s laughing softly as he says “Your username is _IronMan!”_

Tony can’t contain his grin, knot in his chest loosening just a little, though he does his best to fight down his laughter as he points out, “I _am_ Iron Man.”

They both end up laughing softly, even though it’s really not that funny, and then Tony is left doing his best not to fidget while they make some spectacularly stilted small talk.

When Bucky suggests they ‘sit and relax’ Tony can only nod, because he’s really not sure what Bucky expects from him here, but sitting and relaxing seems... suspiciously easy.

Still, he follows Bucky over to the lounge area and then watches curiously as Bucky moves the armchair and closes the curtains and just generally makes himself comfortable while also _clearly_ giving himself the maximum possible tactical advantage. It’s kind of amusing to watch, especially with how proud of himself he looks afterwards, although Tony does flush a little when Bucky looks up and catches him staring.

“I can’t take things from people I don’t know,” Tony admits before he’s even aware he plans to speak.

Because for some reason he finds himself actually concerned that Bucky will think he’s judging him, when nothing could be further from the truth. Tony of all people can appreciate a little healthy paranoia.

Bucky looks confused though, rather than reassured, and once again Tony finds himself speaking without thinking.

“Howard handed me a pair of hot welding tongs without warning me and I got second degree burns,” Tony blurts, even though he hasn’t told anyone that in _years,_ “I get it. We’ve all got things that are ingrained.” He finishes that statement with a shrug and a weak smile, hoping it makes at least _a little_ sense.

Bucky nods though, a small smile on his own face, and Tony finally lets himself relax enough to sink down onto the love seat.

Apparently Bucky hadn’t been joking when he said he wanted to talk things over, which is... a little confusing.

A thought occurs to Tony, and he feels his chest clench a little tighter as he realizes maybe Bucky is still trying to decide if he wants to deal with this at all. If he wants to deal with _Tony._

Tony resists the urge to shift anxiously, instead forces himself to actually look up to find that Bucky isn’t looking at him either.

It gives Tony a chance to study him for a couple seconds, and he can’t help thinking that Bucky looks tired too. Tony also gets another whiff of what he’d _swear_ is engine grease, beneath the smell of over-clean hotel room and Bucky’s, admittedly nice, cologne.

When Bucky looks up and catches him staring Tony drops his gaze, picking at the worn knee of his jeans and scrambling for something to say. He finally lands on “So what do you do?”

It’s pretty quality small talk, if Tony does say so himself, and he’s really hoping to also get an answer to why he keeps smelling engine grease. He’s pretty sure it’s not him, he’s gotten way better about not leaving the house covered in assorted engine fluids.

“I work at a family owned garage in Brooklyn,” Bucky says, and Tony glances back up at him just in time to see his lips quirk up in amusement, and apparently Tony’s sudden spike in interest is not as subtle as he’d hoped. “Sorry if I kinda brought the shop with me.”

Tony _has_ to huff out a soft laugh at that, because Bucky has no idea how much he _really_ doesn’t mind. “I think you are greatly underestimating the amount of time I spend covered in grease, you’re fine,” Tony says, and then makes a small, only slightly jerky motion with his hand for Bucky to keep talking.

“I mostly work on the higher end cars that folks bring us, but I know my way around the beaters and junkers too.” Bucky continues and he’s starting to look a little more relaxed at least, leaning back in his chair and if Tony gets a _little_ distracted by the stretch of his jeans over his wide thighs, well he’s only human.

“I learned how to put an engine together when I was four,” Tony offers with another wobbly attempt at a smile on his face, because engines seem like a way easier topic of conversation than the reason they’re _actually_ here. And because he will basically _always_ be happy to talk about engines.

“Yea?” Bucky asks, his smile warm, and as Tony nods he finally feels like he’s starting to relax as well. Especially when Bucky smiles a little more and prompts “What kind, do you remember?”

Tony chews on his lip for a second, trying to remember the exact model, and then admits “it was a ‘43 Willys jeep, but I can’t remember if it was the MA or the MB. Actually, do _you_ remember which one had the-“

He cuts himself off when he abruptly realizes that maybe asking the man with serious memories issues what he _remembers_ is kind of a dick move, and he’s about to apologize when he realizes that Bucky... appears to have zoned out.

“Bucky?” Tony tries hesitantly and _oh god_ he really hopes he didn’t send Bucky into some kind of spiral. They’re never going to get anywhere if one of them has a breakdown every time they try to meet up, and more importantly Tony is going to feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. “Bucky?”

Tony is just about to start properly panicking, because Bucky is just staring somewhere near his ear and not saying anything, barely even blinking, when Bucky seems to snap himself out of it.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says, “I didn’t mean to get distracted, it was a long day at work. I promise, you have my attention now.”

His smile _does_ look tired, but Tony’s still not convinced that he didn’t say something wrong. Or that he’s not talking too much, because that is definitely some Tony is generally guilty of, but Bucky is still staring at him like he’s waiting for him to continue, and Tony has never been any good at shutting himself up anyways.

“Right, well, that’s ok,” Tony starts again, and figures maybe he’ll skip any war specifics this time, “I was, um, just saying that it was a uh, Jeep engine, one of my fath—Howard’s old vehicles from the war. He got angry with me for taking it apart and, well, didn’t react well.” Shit, Tony probably shouldn’t have told _any_ of this story, actually, but it’s too late to stop now, so he shrugs and tries to force out a careless laugh, figuring he’ll just power through. “I should have known better than to touch something so valuable.”

Shit, he probably shouldn’t have brought Howard up either, why did he even _do_ that, it’s not like _he_ enjoys talking about Howard at all and as far as he can tell they’re pointedly _not_ talking about the murder-elephant in the room, _why_ would he even-

“He always did seem like a prick,” Bucky says, completely cutting off Tony’s train of thought and leaving him gaping a little, because that was probably the _last_ thing he was expecting to hear.

From the way Steve had always talked about Howard, Tony had kind of assumed everyone felt the same way. That Howard was a great, brilliant man, that he was definitely a better man than Tony is.

Bucky smirks, and like he can tell what Tony is thinking he says “He thought the sun shone outta Stevie’s ass and wouldn’t say no to him about damn near anything. And you know Stevie, you give him an inch he takes a damn continent.”

That startles an actual laugh out of Tony, a _real_ one, and he feels himself starting to actually relax as he leans back in his seat and sighs out “God I’d love to see you tell that to Steve to his face.”

“What do you think I did that whole year we were together before I fell off that train?” Bucky asks with a snort, “Every chance I got I reminded him he was a dumb little shit who flew in fists first without thinking, and how he couldn’t push people around just cuz he thought he was right.” He pauses to laugh, running his fingers through his loose hair, which is _also_ not distracting Tony, not at all, and then finishes with “Didn’t like it that much, I have to say.”

Tony can feel himself grinning even as he shakes his head. “Yea, no, he really doesn’t,” he agrees, ducking his chin.

They lapse into silence and Tony honestly can’t tell if it’s awkward or not. All he knows is that it’s not nearly as awkward as it _could_ be, not even as awkward as it probably should be, and it’s such a relief to think maybe they can hold a conversation in person too, not just over texts. Assuming Tony doesn’t have another panic attack, because he definitely ruined their last attempt to meet, but he’s doing way better this time. It definitely helps that he was _expecting_ Bucky to be the one walking through the door.

Maybe they can actually make this work, and Tony _won’t_ end up going crazy from dom withdrawals.

His head snaps up again when Bucky’s stomach growls loudly enough that even Tony can hear it, and with a wince he realizes that if Bucky worked today then he probably came straight here.

“You want room service? We should get you something,” Tony says decisively, already pushing himself to his feet so he can go grab the menu on the small desk.

“Hey, it’s fine, I can wait till I go home,” Bucky tries to protest, but his stomach chooses that moment to growl louder, so Tony just raises an eyebrow and wiggles the menu at him.

Bucky ends up ordering a startling amount of food for someone who was just trying to claim he could wait to eat, and Tony doesn’t even try to stop his smug grin.

The conversation continues as they wait for the food, surprisingly easy, and Tony can’t help thinking it’s too bad they can’t just talk about cars the whole time. He _likes_ talking about cars, and honestly there’s not enough people in Tony’s life that he can just geek out about cars with.

When a knock sounds at the door Tony hops up again to answer it, figuring it’s the least he can do after dragging Bucky here straight from work, however unintentionally.

Once the food is all laid out on the coffee table between them he kind of regrets not getting anything for himself, because it all smells _amazing,_ and Tony abruptly remembers that he’d been too nervous to eat all day.

Or last night.

He just hopes his stomach doesn’t start growling too.

Bucky apparently catches him eyeing one of the burgers though, because he nudges it and the coffee milkshake across the table, smirking as he says “Eat up, I ordered too much.”

Tony is pretty sure his suspicion shows on his face, because if Bucky’s appetite is anything like Steve’s then he could definitely put away four burgers with no problem, but it _does_ smell really good. And he _has_ been wanting to try that salted caramel coffee milkshake since he heard the words.

He’s still not entirely sure this isn’t some kind of trick, but Bucky had seemed genuine enough in his offer, and he certainly doesn’t _look_ like he’s just waiting for the chance to slap Tony’s hand away and laugh.

Bucky is just eating his burger, seemingly enjoying the hell out of it too, and finally Tony can’t resist.

His motions are still a little hesitant as Tony finally reaches out and grabs the burger, but as soon as he unwraps the foil the smell of bacon and melted cheese hits him and Tony forgets everything except planning his angle of attack.

The first bite has him groaning happily and damn, he takes back every less-than-charitable thing he thought about this hotel, the kitchen apparently more than makes up for all of it.

When he pries his eyes open again Bucky is watching him with a grin. “‘S good, right?” He asks, and all Tony can do is nod, because it _really is._

Silence falls as they both continue to eat, and it gives all of Tony’s worries a chance to start clawing their way to the forefront of his mind again.

“I actually just got my hands on a ‘36 Jaguar SS I,” Tony says in an effort to distract himself, pausing just long enough to try a sip of the milkshake. “The paint job is kind of a mess, but the engine is in surprisingly good shape all things considered.”

“That sounds awesome,” Bucky says, looking up at him with another grin and it really it amazing how quickly his face can go from broody to lighting up with just a smile. It makes him look younger, a little less world weary, and Tony is maybe a little distracted because he almost misses it when Bucky asks “You have any pictures of it?”

“Not with me, the paint is seriously a _mess,_ and I’m not going to shame it by photographing it in that condition,” Tony says, shaking his head, and then finds himself offering “You could come check it out sometime though, if you want.” He feels his eyes go wide as soon as the words are out, but apparently he meant it, because it’s not like Tony offers to let people come by his garage just to be _polite._

So he doesn’t take it back, but he also can’t seem to think of anything else to say, and after a couple failed attempts at words Tony decides it’s probably best to just focus on his eating burger, dropping his eyes and _really_ hoping the heat spreading across his face doesn’t show.

“Alright,” he says as soon as he’s swallowed his bite, hoping if he keeps talking they can just move along, “but what’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen wrong with a car at your job?”

When Tony flicks his eyes up it’s to find Bucky smirking like he knows exactly what Tony is doing, but all he says is “lemme tell you ‘bout the worst joyride ever.”

Tony ends up laughing so hard he nearly slides right off the couch at Bucky’s description of the poor terrified kid who’d driven his parents’ classic Camaro into a cow pond, of all things.

“Tony, I’m not kidding you,” Bucky says around his own laughter, “there was cow shit inside the gas tank!”

“Oh my god _no,”_ Tony wheezes out, and when he ends up snorting trying to drag in his next breath it just starts them both laughing harder. He winds up hunched over his knees, clutching his stomach as he gasps for breath and Tony can’t even _remember_ the last time he laughed this hard.

Which probably means that it’s been _way_ too long, but Tony shoves that thought away.

It feels like it takes a ridiculously long time for them to calm down again, the occasional giggle still bursting out of Tony as he finishes his burger and then starts grabbing at the fries before Bucky can finish them all.

Tony doesn’t even think about it before leaning across the table to dunk a couple of his fries into Bucky’s milkshake, but when he pauses to glance up Bucky is still just grinning at him, so Tony pops them into his mouth with a happy groan.

“Oh yeah, chocolate and peanut butter fries are _way_ better than salted caramel fries,” he announces seriously, like it’s a very important discovery, and grabs some more fries to do it again.

Once the food is gone except for the final burger, which he waves off, Tony leans back in his seat again with a happy sigh and huffs out another soft laugh at the fact that his _face_ actually kind of hurts from smiling so much.

Without the distraction of eating or talking about cars, Tony can feel all those worries he’s been trying so hard to ignore fighting for attention again, building up in his chest and behind his teeth.

“Are... are you going to tell Steve about this?” Tony finally can’t resist asking, because it’s been haunting him since Steve came up earlier and he’d realized shit, that’s right, this is Steve’s bestest best friend sitting across from him, and maybe a dom running to the press isn’t the _only_ thing he needs to worry about.

Bucky just looks confused though, his brow furrowing slightly as he asks “About what?”

Tony waves a hand uselessly between them, and then says “About this, about how we met, about...” _Me,_ Tony can’t force himself to finish, instead swallowing thickly and dropping his eyes again.

“Tony, I’m not going to tell _anyone_ anything you don’t want me to,” Bucky says, and sure he _sounds_ genuine, but Tony has heard that before. Apparently his skepticism shows on his face, because Bucky sits up a little straighter and asks “Do- Does anyone know? That you’re a sub, I mean?”

Tony snorts derisively even as he curls in a little tighter around himself, all the surprisingly easy comfort from earlier fading away in the face of the _truth._

_“God no,_ why _would_ I tell anyone that?” He scoffs when he finally manages to unstick his jaw, eyes still firmly downcast. “It’s bad enough I turned out to be a sub, but I’m not even a particularly _good_ one.”

Because that’s the real issue here, isn’t it? It’s just one more thing Tony can’t seem to do right.

And it’s supposed to be _instinctual._

Sure, he’s sub enough to go into withdrawals without a dom, but not sub enough to be any good at it. He doesn’t follow orders, he hates being told what to do and when, he snarks and talks back and honestly he’s sick of being punished for it because at this point it’s a pretty safe bet that he’s _never_ going to learn.

It’s only a matter of time before Bucky figures that out too. Before he has to complain about it to _someone._

And Tony knows, reasonably, that the Avengers are probably never going to ask him to come back, not after the Ultron mess. But there’s still the tiniest chance that Tony can cling to, whenever it starts to sink in how alone he is in his big empty tower.

Even that slim chance is going to be ruined once they find out the truth.

Tony has seen his psych profile, after all. Volatile, self-obsessed, textbook narcissism, adding _submissive and terrible at it_ to that list will just be the final straw.

At least he won’t have to worry about them telling the world at large. Probably.

He’s vaguely aware of Bucky trying to catch his eye, but Tony keeps his own gaze firmly down where he can’t see the judgement on Bucky’s face. Or the pity.

At this point Tony can’t decide which would be worse.

Bucky lets out a soft sigh and Tony doesn’t quite contain the urge to flinch, but Bucky’s voice is surprisingly gentle as he says “Darlin, I’m sorry that you feel that way about being a sub, and I’m sorry that someone made you feel like you weren’t worthy of respect like any other human being because of it, but you gotta know, you being a sub means about the same to me as you having brown eyes.”

Tony can’t help looking up at that, confusion probably obvious on his face as he tries to figure out if that’s some kind of insult. Because if it is, it’s certainly a new one.

And that’s way easier than thinking about Bucky _apologizing,_ like he could possibly know what kind of respect Tony is _worthy_ of. It’s a nice thought, at least, but Tony doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

Especially because Bucky continues speaking, still almost disturbingly earnest, steel blue eyes serious, like for some reason it’s incredibly important that Tony _believes_ him.

“It’s just a part of you Tony,” he insists, “It’s not _all_ that you are. You’re a genius and a hero and a mechanic and you got that cute snort when you laugh too hard, but none of it defines you, it’s just- it’s like ingredients in a soup. If any of them were gone or different, you wouldn’t be you anymore. And I like you the way you are.”

Tony can’t do anything but stare at him for several long seconds, absently mouthing _‘soup ingredients’_ to himself.

And then, to his ultimate embarrassment, Tony actually finds himself getting a little choked up. It’s just that that’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said about him with all apparent honesty, and Bucky doesn’t even _know_ him, not really.

Anything Bucky knows about him he would have learned from the news, which can’t have been flattering recently, or maybe from Steve. And Tony can’t imagine that was particularly flattering either.

”I’ll never tell anyone about this without your permission Tony,” Bucky says after a couple more seconds of Tony just staring at him uselessly, smiling gently and tapping his fingers against the table. “Now, or in the future, what we do together is just between us. Your privacy is something I respect, and I’m not gonna breach it for anyone.”

And there goes Tony’s plan to _not_ get emotional right out the window, and all he can hope is that his pathetic sniffle isn’t _too_ loud as he quickly ducks his chin again under the guise of nodding.

_Fuck,_ he doesn’t even remember the last time he even _had_ privacy to respect, really, and he doesn’t even care if Bucky catches him trying to sneakily wipe his suddenly wet eyes on the shoulder of his T-shirt, because it’s at least better than _actually crying._

When he finally looks up again though Bucky isn’t even looking at him, he’s gathering up all the trash from the table into one large ball and then lobbing it gracefully into the trash can in the corner.

Tony isn’t even sure Bucky can _see_ the trash can from where he’s sitting, and he can’t help the way his mind instantly jumps to wondering exactly how good Bucky’s special reasoning must be, and his muscle control, and if Tony can maybe talk him into doing that again with more obstacles-

“You wanna do experiments to see what all I can do, don’t you?” Bucky asks, cutting off Tony’s train of thought and then laughing when Tony grins sheepishly, his cheeks heating again. “Ask nicely and maybe I’ll let you,” he says, his tone teasing, and then throws in a wink when Tony looks at him again.

Damnit, Tony knows for a fact that he hasn’t blushed like this in _years_ and yet here he is, face warm and fidgeting in his seat just because an objectively attractive person winked at him with his stupid, admittedly gorgeous eyes.

Tony is saved from trying to think of an actual, intelligible response to that by Bucky settling back in his chair and asking “Well, should we discuss what our first scene will be like? If you’re still interested in going through with this with me.”

His stomach drops a little at the turn in conversation, but it’s honestly not as much as Tony had been expecting, so he nods and tries to swallow down his nerves as he looks up at Bucky again.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Bucky says and okay, apparently Tony hadn’t done such a great job of hiding his apprehension. “No harm, no foul, if you want out, I’m good with that,” Bucky continues, voice still soft and earnest, like he _actually means it._

Like he’s _not_ going to be pissed if Tony changes his mind and it turns out that all of this was a waste of his time.

Tony chews on his lip for a second, and he can’t deny there’s a big part of him that still wants to run, wants to put this entire confusing thing behind him because Bucky wasn’t supposed to be _nice,_ or _likeable,_ and hell, he definitely wasn't supposed to be _Bucky Barnes._

When Tony glances up Bucky is still watching him, eyes bright and so clever, and Tony finds himself blurting “No, it’s good, I’m-“ _just being a baby-_ “I want this.”

It doesn’t come out quite as sure as Tony was hoping, but apparently it’s good enough because Bucky nods, still tapping his metal fingers thoughtfully against the table.

Tony can just barely hear the mechanical whir of all those tiny moving parts, and he probably shouldn’t find it as comforting as he does.

“Okay, well then, I think us meeting in the hotel for now is the most neutral location, are you okay with that?” Bucky asks, and Tony nods quickly.

That’s basically what he’d been expecting. It’s the reason he’d suggested the hotel this week in the first place, he’d figured Bucky wouldn't be totally comfortable in Stark Tower, now that he knows he’s meeting with the person who literally owns the building. The hotel is much more neutral, and with any luck Tony will stop feeling twitchy and paranoid about it at some point.

“Your profile said you’re only in this for one time, is that true?” Bucky asks, and for a second all Tony can do is blink, because he’d totally forgotten he even put that. “It’s fine if it is, I just want to be sure so we can plan a scene that meets your needs if it’s just one time. If you’d like this to be more than once, then I have a few ideas in mind; I just gotta know which way to go with my planning,” Bucky continues, topping it off with a soft laugh, and Tony manages to work up a weak smile.

“I uh, initially it was only one time that I wanted, but-” Tony forces out, and then trails off as his voice catches in his throat.

He can dimly hear Howard’s voice in the back of his head, demanding that he _show no weakness, admit no fault._ It’s not a piece of advice Tony was ever particularly fond of, and he especially doesn’t want to be hearing it _now._

He’s already come this far, he might as well admit to himself that he’s put this off way too long for there to be a quick easy fix.

“I think I need more,” Tony admits, hating himself all the while for being _weak,_ “It’s been- hah, it’s been _awhile_ and I’ve sorta, well, gone into dom withdrawal.”

There, now it’s out there, and all Tony can do is try not to cringe as he waits for the judgement.

Bucky snorts softly, but it sounds amused rather than insulting, and when Tony glances up it’s to see a small, bemused smile on his face. “Sounds like we’re in the same boat then,” he says when Tony meets his eyes.

Tony feels expression start to twist in confusion, and then his eyes widen as what Bucky is saying sinks in.

_Oh._ Okay, so, maybe Tony isn’t the only one who _needs_ this, and at least that’s kind of a comforting thought.

Almost like he can hear what Tony is thinking, Bucky says “It’s been decades since I domed anyone, for awhile there after DC I just assumed it was gone, that I was neutral now, but,” he pauses to laugh bitterly, shaking his head, and Tony feels his chest clench a little because _fuck_ does he understand that wish. “Insomnia, irritability, anxiety and mood swings are kinda hard to tell apart from the PTSD, so I didn’t really realize I was in sub withdrawal till about a week and a half ago.”

“Yep, that sounds like the same shitty boat alright,” Tony says and _Jesus,_ he thought _he_ had it bad, at least he _knew_ what he was doing to himself. At least it’s only been a couple _years._

Bucky hasn’t had a sub in _decades,_ and that’s kind of a terrifying thought, because he definitely deserves better than _Tony_ after all that.

What if Tony isn’t _good enough?_ He’s a pretty shitty sub, it really wouldn’t surprise him if it’s not enough to help someone who’s actually going through withdrawals.

But he also remembers the way Bucky had looked when he’d walked into the office last week, about as nervous and worn down as Tony had felt, and Tony is _intimately_ familiar with that list of symptoms. If Bucky thinks he can help, the least Tony can do is _try._

So he takes a deep breath, works up a weak smile, and says “Okay then, keep it casual and as often as we need till we’re both feeling better?”

That should be a fair deal, right? Tony will do his best until Bucky no doubt finds a better sub, and by then Tony should be fine. Probably. Better than he is now, at least.

“Sounds good to me,” Bucky says with a nod and a small smile, so Tony nods back and shifts in his seat a little as he realizes shit, now for the truly nerve wracking part of this conversation.

“So uh,” Tony starts, and his voice comes out a little softer than he intended, but at least it’s not shaking, and he even manages a couple glances up at Bucky between staring down at his own hands. “I believe you said you had _plans,_ so... What did you have in mind?”

He hears Bucky shifting in his seat again, and when Tony glances up he’s smiling warmly, like he’s trying to put Tony at ease and it... actually kind of works.

“I was thinking I’d bring some rope and tie you up a little,” Bucky starts, still in that surprisingly calming voice that Tony appreciates more than he’ll ever admit, “Whether it’s over your clothes or with you as undressed as you feel comfortable with, I’d like to have you kneeling by my knees while I’m sitting. I’d like to feed you by hand and play with your hair a little if that’s something you’re comfortable with. Just let us get used to each other a bit.”

Tony is left gaping stupidly by the end because that is... not what he was expecting. _At all._ His first thought is that it actually sounds kind of _nice,_ which instantly makes him suspicious, and before he can stop himself he’s blurting out “You... don’t want to fuck me?”

It’s hard to tell past all the confusion and general bewilderment, but Tony thinks he might also be a little offended. Sure, he’s getting older, and he may not be super soldier fit, but he’s still fuckable, damnit!

He’s pretty sure Bucky is trying not to smile, and if this is all some kind of super elaborate joke Tony is _not_ going to be responsible for his actions-

“Not at first,” Bucky says with a shake of his head, interrupting Tony’s spiraling thoughts, “We’re just getting to know each other and I don’t think it’s appropriate yet.”

And Tony is right back to blue-screening, because seriously, _what?_

“But... how are you going to get off?” He asks slowly, because there has to be a catch here, there _has_ to be, and Tony needs to figure out what it is before it comes back to bite him.

Bucky’s face does something complicated, one eyebrow twitching as his eyes narrow slightly, and for a second Tony thinks it’s because his bluff has been called.

“I _don’t_ plan on getting off,” Bucky says, equally slowly, like _Tony_ is the one that doesn’t make sense, “That’s not the point here. Dominance and submission is, at its core, a power exchange. You submit to me and allow me to do what I want with you, with the understanding that it’s _also_ what _you_ want.”

“What,” Tony says, voice a little rough, and seriously, have things just changed drastically since the 40’s or something?

“It’s not always about fucking or coming. It’s about trust and taking care of each other,” Bucky continues gently, like he’s explaining something that should be incredibly simple, and Tony would be offended if he could wrap his brain around _any_ of this.

The worst part is that Tony really _wants_ to believe him, he _wants_ that, and to his embarrassment he finds himself getting choked up again, has to clear his throat before he can actually speak.

“I- well I’ve definitely never done _that_ before,” Tony tries to joke, but it comes out shaking and weak, so he just ducks his chin again and admits “But I- I’d like to do the scene like you described. That sounds... good.”

“That’s great Tony, I’m happy to hear you’re okay with that,” Bucky says and god, Tony can _hear_ how wide he’s smiling even if he can’t actually bring himself to look up. “Is there anything you’d like to add or subtract from the scene?”

Now he wants _Tony’s_ input?!

Tony is so thrown he’d swear he forgets _words_ for a second and all he can do is gnaw on his lip, barely noticing when he begins tapping his fingers against the arc reactor in a nervous gesture.

And then something occurs to him.

If this _is_ some kind of trick, it’s probably best he figures that out as soon as possible. And if there’s one thing Tony’s good at, it’s pushing buttons.

When he finally looks up, Bucky is smiling is a way Tony almost wants to call _encouraging,_ but he still can’t quite hide the suspicion in his voice as he says “I’m ok with the rope, as long as it’s not too tight against my chest.”

Tony is very much expecting to get snapped at, maybe told not to be such a goddamn baby, at the very _least_ for that warm smile to disappear from Bucky’s face.

But Bucky just nods, smiles a little wider, and says “Of course, we’ll test it as we go and if it’s not right we’ll adjust it.”

Huh. Not what he expected, and Tony has to pause for another second before he says “Right, okay... um, I’m ok with being undressed, down to my boxers maybe?”

Tony knows there’s a line, there _has_ to be a limit to how much he can ask for and he just has to find it. The sooner he does, the sooner he _knows,_ the sooner he can stop feeling like he’s fallen into some kind of crazy alternate universe.

“That’s what I had thought too,” Bucky, confusingly, agrees again, “But again, if at the time you’re not comfortable with that, I want you to tell me so you’re happy and feeling good about what we’re doing.”

“Sure, yea, okay,” Tony says, nodding slowly and still reeling even as he tries for a smile of his own, “I uh, I’ve never had someone hand feed me, so... I guess that’s ok? It sounds interesting.”

“It’s nice, I think you’ll enjoy it,” Bucky says encouragingly, and something else occurs to Tony.

“I- so, what are you going to do while I eat and just...sit there I guess?” He asks, because he still does not understand how any of this is fun for _Bucky,_ what the hell is he getting out of this if Tony isn’t _doing anything?_

“I’m gonna play with your hair and talk sweet to you so I can see that pretty blush on your cheeks and see if it goes any further,” Bucky answers instantly, both his tone and smile gone playfully teasing, and _damnit_ Tony feels his face flush all over again.

“Um, yea, okay,” he sputters out, becaue what else _can_ he say to that, ducking his face again even as he feels his lips pulling into a small smile.

Honestly, the rest of it sounds nice enough that Tony probably won’t even care if Bucky changes his mind about that later.

“Yea? Good!” Bucky says and the happiness in his voice is infectious, has Tony smiling a little wider too as he glances up again. “So, do you wanna meet here again? Say, Friday evening?”

Okay. Okay, this is happening. Tony is... not as apprehensive as he expected as he grabs his phone from the table and checks his calendar. “Yea, that works for me. Seven okay?” he asks, finally looking up again, and when Bucky nods he adds it in. And reschedules his afternoon video conference, because odds are he’s going to be a nervous wreck again by next week.

Look at him. Planning his panic attacks.

“So, I guess that’s it?” He asks and _god_ he hates how weak and unsure his voice comes out.

“Unless you wanna sit here and discuss which engine is better between a Ferrari and a Lamborghini, then yea, I’d say we’re done for now,” Bucky says with a teasing grin, and it startles a laugh out of Tony.

“We’d be here all night!” Tony says, grinning widely because as soon as he’s alone he just knows he’s going to have at least a _minor_ freakout about how easy it apparently is for Bucky to set him at ease. For now though, Tony just laughs again and tacks on “Maybe we can save that heated debate for another time.”

Bucky grins wider, and it really does do amazing things to his face. It makes him look younger and so much lighter, makes his eyes light up, and Tony only notices the way they’re apparently leaning towards each other over the table when Bucky leans back to push himself to his feet.

Tony hops to his feet as well, clearing his throat, and then offers “I’ll just, walk you out I guess.”

It makes him feel a little better when Bucky hesitates at the door, like he’s not quite ready to leave yet either.

Or maybe like there’s something else he wants to say, because he turns back to Tony with a nervous smile and laughs faintly as he asks “Would it be too weird to ask for a hug?”

Tony is _this close_ to blurting out that _all_ of this is too weird, and he knows his surprise must show on his face, but he swallows it down because a hug is probably one of the easiest things anyone has ever asked of him.

Even if it is weird, god, Bucky is _so weird._

So Tony just nods, takes a halting step forward, and before he knows it he has Bucky wrapped _all around him_. It’s almost a sensation overload for a second, his brain skip-starting as it struggles to process the warmth and gentleness that he’s by now _so_ unaccustomed to. It’s almost _uncomfortable,_ but also he never wants it to end.

Bucky’s hand feels huge in the small of his back, so strong and yet _so gentle_ as he pulls Tony in, other hand cupping the back of Tony’s neck and tucking his head down against Bucky’s chest.

Tony goes tense for a second, trying to hold himself still, but quickly gives up and wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist instead. Bucky is _so_ warm and solid against him, and Tony suddenly can’t remember the last time he just... hugged someone.

It’s nice. It’s _really_ nice, and Tony is dimly aware that he’s leaning into it with basically all of his weight, but Bucky doesn’t budge even a little as Tony slumps against him fully. _God_ he’s so strong. Tony inhales shakily at how _easy_ it is for Bucky to hold him, how _safe_ he feels and it’s almost scary how good it is.

Bucky just hugs him a little tighter, his breath steady against the crown of Tony’s head and his barely-audible heartbeat surprisingly soothing as Tony sighs and presses his face a little harder into Bucky’s chest. From this close the smell of engine grease is stronger, the faint but unmistakable metallic tang of well-loved tools, mixing perfectly with the cologne he’s wearing and Tony swears he can feel something in his chest finally _settle._

He has no idea how long they actually stand there, but when Bucky starts to slowly pull away it leaves Tony swaying on his feet a little, his hands lingering on Bucky’s waist as he finds himself reluctant to let go entirely.

“I’ll see you soon,” Bucky says, like a promise, smiling down at Tony and the light brush of his fingers over Tony’s cheek before his hand falls away has Tony flushing a little darker. “If you want to change anything between now and then about the scene, just text me and let me know.”

All Tony can do is nod, blinking dumbly, still waiting for his brain to come fully back online. When Bucky steps away Tony has to swallow down a soft whine as his hands finally fall back to his sides, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out for him and sink back into that warm embrace.

“See ya,” Bucky says, still smiling, then turns for the door.

“Bye,” Tony says though he’s not sure he actually manages to actually make a sound, his breath catching somewhere around his throat and Bucky is already walking away down the long hallway anyways.

Tony watches him until he steps onto the elevator, then finally lets the door fall shut.

He waits for the nerves to kick back in, or maybe some embarrassment over the way he’d all but clung to Bucky at the end there, but... nothing comes.

Tony still just feels warm, the lingering warmth of Bucky’s arms around him, and Tony swears he can still _smell_ that amazingly comforting scent lingering on his own clothes.

If he maybe even ducks his head to sniff his shirt and then sighs a little in disappointment when he finds that it’s all in his head, well it’s not like there’s anyone around to call him on it.

That conversation went surprisingly well, better than he ever could have expected honestly, for all that Tony is still confused as all hell. All that worry can wait until later. For now, Tony had an amazing burger, and he got to talk about cars longer than anyone usually lets him ramble, and he just... wants to keep feeling warm.

He’s smiling as he heads back to the small sitting area, scooping his phone up from the table again and tucking it into his pocket before looking around the room one more time. So, it looks like Tony _won’t_ be needing to lay around here for the rest of the weekend.

Weird, _so weird_ , but also kind of... nice.

Tony lingers in the room for another moment, until he catches himself just staring at the empty chair where Bucky had been. He huffs out a soft laugh, shaking his head at himself, and turns towards the door again.

As he leaves the hotel Tony is surprised to find that he’s almost _looking forward_ to next week, and if this is a trap or a trick of some kind then it’s a _good_ one.

Tony knows all the worry and anxiety and fear is still _there,_ just waiting to creep up on him again, but right now he feels... _okay._

It’s been a long time since he felt okay, and Tony wants to hang onto it for a long as possible.

* * *

Tony wakes up the next morning after a surprisingly restful night’s sleep, and he _still_ feels okay.

There’s definitely that tiny thorn of worry lodged in the back of his mind, but at this point it’s _easy_ to ignore. That’s just Tony’s natural state of being.

A thought occurs to him, and he’s grinning widely as he rolls across the bed and throws out one sleep-heavy limb to grab his phone off the nightstand.

Snowflake  
  
**Saturday** 9:37 AM   
Okay, but now for the most important discussion   
Let’s talk snacks   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


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